Myriah Fire (31 page)

He inclined his head, and she could see he had decided to change the subject. “Ah,” he said, looking into the distance, “Grantham looks quite lovely from this hill.”

She eyed her home and smiled. “Yes, yes, it does …”

“And with it in sight, I am afraid I must leave you, sunbeam, as I am headed for the village.” He tipped his beaver hat. “Perhaps I may see you in London.”

“Perhaps.” She noted black waves of hair fell across his forehead most fetchingly. She immediately banished the notion. He was a hell-bent rake. He was Hotspur, and she was not going to be just another one of his conquests.

She watched as he left her and made for the village road only a short distance off. He turned to wave at her, and she felt a moment’s gratification, which she immediately chastised herself for feeling. In all probability, she would not see him again. His kiss had been a kiss goodbye, and his kiss was something she would remember forever, for she was fairly certain she would never receive another kiss quite like it from anyone else.

Ready for some spice with a sweet?

Try a taste of

Oh, Cherry Ripe

~ One ~

CHERYL ELTON OPENED the door to her stepmother’s sitting room and peeped around the corner of the bright and handsomely furnished room before she smiled sheepishly and asked, “You wanted to see me, mama?”

Lady Elton’s expression was grave and her lips set as she said in a reproving tone, “Come sit, Cheryl.”

Cherry Elton did what she was told, not because she was an obedient miss, but because she wanted to stave off the trouble she saw ahead.

Her stepmother affectionately brushed Cherry’s long, thick, black hair away from her face and clucked. “I suppose you should start to wear your hair up most of the time now … you certainly are of age.”

“Yes, Mama, but I like it loose.”

Lady Elton frowned and sighed, took a moment to smooth out the skirt of her gray satin day gown, and then looked into Cherry’s bright aqua-blue eyes. “I want you to listen to what I have to say before you get yourself in a state.”

“Mama, I know now that what I did was not quite the thing—” Cherry hurriedly began to explain. She knew this time she was in trouble.

“Not the thing!” spluttered Lady Elton, interrupting her. “Hopping on Lord Melville’s stallion in the middle of Hyde Park—in your walking clothes—and then riding the animal astride with your skirt hiked up as you raced Sir Peter for all the world to see …
not the thing?
Why, you miserable wretch of a girl! How can you sit there and look so innocent? If your father were alive …”

Cheryl leaned forward and hugged her stepmother. “I am sorry.” But even as her stepmother might have relaxed had she left it at that, Cherry added, “Had I been a man and done that, I would have been called
top sawyer
 … but just because I am a female—”

“A man would not have had to hike up his skirts!” Lady Elton snapped. “Cherry love, what am I to do with you?” She put up her hand to stop her stepdaughter from answering. “Enough. You know the rules that govern society. You know that what you do affects not only your own standing but mine as well in that same society. How dare you, child.”

This tore at Cherry. She loved her stepmother and meant her no ill. As far back as she could remember her stepmother had always loved her and her father and had been very good to her. “Mama, I didn’t think past the moment … Peter was being the devil of a tease … and there was Melville’s black looking so very fine and inviting and Melville goading me by saying he was too much horse for me to handle … and …”

“Yes, impossible creature, I do see, but that is where a young woman of your breeding and standing demurs and shames a gentleman into behaving with more decorum towards her.” Lady Elton clucked her tongue, and Cherry could see her mama’s thoughts racing. “However, I have the solution, and amazingly enough,
he
still wants you.”

“What
are
you talking about?
He
—who still wants me?”

“I knew that he was more than mildly interested, but I never dreamed he would actually come up to scratch … and then, Lady Jersey said you would be refused vouchers to Almack’s because of your recent hoydenish behavior … That awful woman never liked me—I daresay she was looking for the chance to … but never mind, all will soon be well.”

“Jersey said she would refuse me entrée to Almack’s?” Cherry returned on a hushed note. She always thought the
Haute Ton
hostess liked her.

“No, no, not Sarah but the other one.”

“Princess Esterhazy? Stiff-rumped—”

“And that is another thing—your language. You spout terms like any man—stiff-rumped, indeed.”

“Well, I don’t care about Almack’s anyway,” Cherry answered.

“Then why are you pouting? This won’t do. You shan’t be admitted there this season, you dreadful girl. However, all is not lost. You will be married to the catch of the century, and they just might change their minds about you yet. No matter, you will be busy enough this season with your new life.”

“Married?” Cherry jumped to her dainty feet. “
I won’t!
 No—what are you talking about?” Had she indicated any partiality for any of her suitors? No, she had not. How could her stepmother do this? It was absurd. She had refused no less than five offers in the past eight months.
What then—
this offer had to be from a virtual stranger. Who could have applied for her hand?

“Oh, but my girl, you will be married, and one day you will thank me for taking this high-handed method of settling you comfortably just when you were on the brink of scandal.”

“Mama, I don’t know what you are talking about. I must tell you that I have no intention whatsoever of marrying where my heart has not thrown in the towel, and I must advise you that my heart is very much my own.”

“And still you will be married, my darling, and he is just the man to set you to rights,” Lady Elton returned gently but firmly.

“The devil you say!” her wayward stepdaughter retorted in just the style her stepmama deplored.

“Now that is precisely what I mean.” Lady Elton sighed. “You cannot go about using expressions like that one. It is most unbecoming.”

“And it is not becoming to marry a man I have never seen!” Cherry was now desperately wringing her hands. Her mama was talking absurdities, and she found it all incredible.

“His lordship is an exceptional man. He is handsome. He is wealthy beyond imagination, with a family name that dates back to—”

“What do I care for that? Mama, you are asking me to marry a man I have never met!” Cherry, now pacing frantically, screeched.

“Yes, dear, but often those matches turn out very comfortably.”

“I don’t want comfort!” Cherry snapped. “I want love … passion …”

“That may come as well. When your dear father proposed to me, I scarcely knew him … but after we were married, all those things came—”

“No, Mama … I want those things first!”

“Cheryl, you know nothing—”

“I know I won’t do this,” she snorted.

“You will meet him, and this will be done. Darling, I rather think you will even like him immediately. He is most charming and has experience enough to—”

“Ah! No doubt he is ancient.”

“Not quite ancient.” Lady Elton’s tone was dry. “Eight and twenty, and you, my dear, are one and twenty … nearly past your prime. You are certainly past your first bloom and still on the town. It is, considering your exquisite looks and dowry, most odd.”

“Odd? It is what I want, and I am very willing to remain single forever. Mama, this is completely ridiculous.”

“No, darling, it is not ridiculous. I don’t know exactly what prompted him to offer for you, for quite honestly, he has never seen you either … but offer he has, and I have accepted.”

Cherry’s mouth dropped, and it took a moment for her to recoup for the attack. “Indeed!”

“Dearest daughter, don’t you know that I fell in love with you even before I did with your father? I want the best for you, and believe me, this is. Some of the best marriages are created in this fashion.”

“And some of the worst. Marriage of convenience—for me? Never, Mama … never.”

“No? Well, I am afraid you are out there, my love. His lordship will be by tomorrow morning to present himself to you, and, darling, mark me, you will marry him.”

“I won’t.” Cherry stomped her foot and felt a terror fill her mind. What was happening to her world? It was all falling around her ears. Could her stepmother force her to the altar? “This is monstrous of you!”

“I know you think that, but, darling, it is not what you imagine. He will treat you with respect. He is wise enough to handle you gently, tenderly. Why, you will hunt with him in the North, where he has a hunting box, and you will—”

“Mama!” Cheryl interrupted sharply. “I can’t believe you are doing this to me. You have always stood my friend. Now … before my eyes, you have turned into a stranger. Worse, you are nothing more than a … a stepmother from some horrid fairytale.” And so saying, Cherry fled the room.

~ Two ~

SKYLER WESTBROOKE STOOD at his bow window, the cozy warmth of his richly appointed study at this broad back. He turned and regarded himself in the mirror, staring into his own deep blue eyes. What was he doing?

He turned again and looked out onto the quiet London street. His right hand had formed a fist at his lips, for he was in deep concentration. His left hand unconsciously rubbed his muscular thigh where he had sustained a minor injury the day before.

He was consumed with agitation. The time had come to make his decision final. He had asked for the hand of Miss Cheryl Elton, and he would go through with it. He would wed the unknown chit and be done.

It was his only logical choice. At least one could not fault her heritage, her upbringing, her family connections. Hers was a fine, aristocratic line. Her father had been in politics; he had been a Whig like himself, and this was a plus. Miss Elton was reputed to be a lovely creature—in fact, his good friend had told him she was exquisite, though there was talk about her ‘too high spirits’, but he would curb that. Marriage would bring her in tow.

She was already one and twenty, so he wasn’t robbing the cradle. It was a good age, beyond schoolgirl notions, old enough to mother his young brothers and sisters. He had been told she had a good head on her shoulders, which was well, for she would need it when she found herself with such a large ready-made family. And Miss Elton would understand what it was to lose one’s parents, having lost both herself.

There it was; though he had never met her, he had thought it all out and chosen her to carry on his name and his household. As to the ‘love’ he had always looked for … it just wasn’t meant to be.

The one woman he had thought he loved had turned out to be a faithless, money-hungry, man-eating—
never mind
. H
e flicked it out of his head. The year had given him perspective. Love was not in the cards for him. He would be a good husband, and if a pretty ankle turned his head, he would be discreet …

He walked over to his Regency writing desk, where an impressive collection of miniatures reposed in ornate silver frames. One was a portrait of his mother. On either side was framed a portrait of a man, the one on the left his father and the one on the right his stepfather. Then in order of their ages were one of each of his siblings—two half-brothers and two-half sisters. First was Freddy, seventeen and away at Eton. Next was Mary, fourteen and also away at school. The twins, Felix and Francine, were eight and totally wild. They had managed between them to dispose of one governess after another, three in the last year. Damn, but they needed a woman’s hand. They needed someone who was young enough to take them in tow … and hopefully grow to love them as he did.

Marry he would, and his bride would be Cheryl Elton, for her spirit was just what he needed to run his wayward household.

It was logical …